As He Breaks
by AhhSupernatural
Summary: When Dean goes to Hell, he meets a familiar face. (Based after season three)


Dean never wanted to hurt an innocent. Shit, he had done his best to keep from killing the vessels that the demons had taken. He gave everything to protect the world, to shield it from all of the darkness that dwelled in the shadows, in their closets, under their beds.

He gave everything, because that was what was expected of him. It was what his father expected of him.

Sam agreed, grudgingly. More often than not, he would question their father's wishes, even when Dean would elbow him with a whispered, "Dude, just do it."

And when Dean gave his soul for Sam's life, Sam still didn't agree.

"_You save my life, over and over. I mean, you sacrifice everything for me!"_

Dean always knew that what Sam said was true. He would give anything for his brother. It was how he had always lived. _Protect Sam at all costs. _That's all Dean knew, that's all Dean cared about.

"_Did I die?"_

Dean screamed as Alastair began to slowly, so slowly, take the skin from Dean's legs.

Layer by layer, Dean was torn apart. Once the layers were taken away, by some horrible twist of fate, Dean's body was whole, ready to be ripped apart all over again.

"_Dude, how many Tuesday's did you have?" _His voice echoed inside his own head.

Alistair answered, mimicking Sam's voice, "Enough."

Dean screamed, not only in pain, but in rage. "You son of a bitch, don't you-"

He was cut off by his carotid being severed. Dean started to choke on his own blood, as he watched Alistair smile that horrible, sadistic smile.

Years later, Dean unfortunately woke on the slab yet again.

"Now, Dean," Alistair teased. "You know that I would be _sooo_ glad to let you go. I mean, it _has_ been thirty years. You've endured _so_ much..."

"I'll d-" Dean gagged, spitting a chunk of blood out in front of him.

Dean strengthened his resolve and stared Alistair down.

"I'll do it," Dean growled, blood staining his teeth. "You son of a bitch, I'll do it."

Dean never wanted to hurt an innocent. He had sold his soul to make sure that his little brother lived. But... He was in Hell, right? These souls weren't innocent, right?

_The first time you picked up my razor, the first time you sliced into that weeping bitch..._

Dean recognized the first girl on his slab, just vaguely.

The first girl was tied spread eagle on a table, clad in a white dress. Her dark hair, slick with sweat, clung to her face.

Dean grinned, just as sadistically as Alistair had before him.

He slid his knife from the bottom of her left breast to her right hip, cutting through the fabric and releasing a thin line of blood. The girl started sobbing, begging.

Dean didn't care. How many times had he sobbed? How many times had he begged for the pain to stop? How many times had he begged to leave, to go back to his brother?

"I think I remember you, sweetheart," Dean paused, casually looking towards the ceiling while slowly drawing the flat end of his blade down his cheek.

"Oh yes!" he exclaimed, pointing the weapon towards her.

"Constance, was it?" Dean slid his knife down the inside of her right thigh. "I think I remember you killing a few men. And by a few, I mean a _lot _of men."

The knife sliced down her left thigh, causing her to cry out in pain.

"Yeah, I recall correctly now..." Dean murmured. With a small smile, he took an iron and warmed it on one of the Hell fires that was nearby.

"See, I recall the worst thing that you did." He held the iron an inch away from her eyes, just enough so that she could have felt the heat. "I remember you trying to rip out my brother's heart."

Constance screamed as Dean stuck the iron into a spot just beside her heart, then gasped as he took it out.

Unfortunately for the woman, Dean did this five times, one for each of the fingers she had stuck into his brother's chest.

The woman managed to bark out a laugh. "Really?" she coughed, blood running down her lips. "This is all for your brother?"

Dean smiled again. He brought a new, white hot iron out of the fire, and slowly drove it directly into the middle of the woman's heart.

He listened to her scream, dying. He had just a moment before she transferred to another slab and a different soul would be placed on his. He leaned down next to the woman's ear and whispered, "I'd give anything for my brother."


End file.
